


Greaseball

by hellborn



Series: TOPFL 2018 Challenge [2]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots, Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College, Alternate Universe - Taco Bell, Asexual Mikey Way, Blood, Blow Jobs, Club Fight, Drunk fighting, Enemies to Lovers, Freshman - Awsten Geoff Otto (He's not in this one oof) Tyler Josh Brendon, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Josh has anger issues and I can relate, Juniors - Gerard & Ray, M/M, Protective Boyfriends, Rape, Recreational drug usage, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Smut, Sophomores - Mikey Pete Frank Dallon, TOPFL February Challenge, Taco Bell Archive/Saga Verse, The main ships for this one are joshler & frerard, They all go to the same college, This might be triggering for some people, Underage Drinking, Violence, getting drugged, smoking weed, use of the f-slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 23:24:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13798530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellborn/pseuds/hellborn
Summary: “So, what’s your name, kiddo?” Josh can hear Gerard asking as he heads through the heavy kitchen doors.“Tyler,” the guy grunts.“Hmm, pretty name, don’t you think so Frankie?”“The prettiest,” Frank agrees, his voice oozing mock-infatuation.“You’re not going to drive me away by being fags, takes one to know one.”(edited on 4.20.18)





	Greaseball

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING
> 
> includes rape, underage drinking & drug use & non-con drugging

Josh wasn’t exactly sure how he had ended up working at a Taco Bell. Though, the pay was decent and the other employees were pretty chill, plus the owner didn’t set up any sort of schedule whatsoever, so the employees had made their own, littered with smoke breaks. Josh wasn’t complaining, it was a good system for him even if a good half of the things they did there--regulated and unregulated--were illegal. 

 

Josh usually opted to take his first break with his roommate, Brendon (when they worked together), partly because Brendon always gave him free weed, and partly because they’d been friends since middle school. Josh supposed that had something to do with the free weed. He prefered to take his second break with Awsten and Geoff (when they were there) because they were the only couple that worked there that wasn’t completely and disgustingly in love with each other (and they were chill guys who never complained when Josh bummed a cigarette off of them). Josh had made the mistake of taking a smoke break with Gerard and Frank before and Mikey had had to pry a bottle of bleach from his hands that he was seriously contemplating spraying into his eyes after witnessing what little regard for societies rules on public decency they possessed.  

 

The staff was mostly made up of disgruntled, emo, slightly broke college students, Josh being one of them. 

 

There were two factors that Josh was aware of that accounted for the lot of them--the former being that the campus of the college they all attended was a ten-ish minute walk from the rundown fast food restaurant. The second being that the current owner (a dude called Brian) had won the building from one of the guys in the group of stoners that played poker in the basement so he really didn’t give a fuck who worked there or what they looked like as long as he got money. It’s as sketchy as it sounds, maybe even more so.

 

For what it was, it was a good job and Josh was happy there. 

 

But sadly, life couldn’t be flawless and Josh had been starting to get suspicious of his good fortune when a boy around Josh’s age that he’d maybe seen once or twice around campus had entered the establishment during his turn at the counter.

 

Josh wasn’t really one to make assumptions but he couldn’t help noticing the way the boy’s greasy brown hair stuck up untidily and his nose was twisted in a way that could only be explained by a nasty break. The boy obviously hadn’t yet made the acquaintance of hygiene judging by his unwashed hair and acne-ridden face. Maybe he was prone to blemishes and had highly greasy hair but Josh thought that having both at the same time was unlikely. (And this guy didn’t even look like he cared.) 

 

The putrid mustard-colored hoodie that hung off his painfully thin frame like the skin of a mushy grape and, like its wearer, had (hopefully) seen cleaner days. 

 

Josh wanted to ask this boy where he was living and if he needed somewhere to bathe but couldn’t seem to find the right words to ask appropriately. (Probably because it’s not appropriate.)

 

Apparently, he’d been staring because suddenly, the greaseball was standing on the other side of the counter, staring right back, “What the fuck are you staring at, assface?” An ugly sneer curled across his chapped and split lips. Josh’s nose curled up in distaste. The guy smelled like a corpse had gotten mauled by a pack of skunks. 

 

Pent-up anger Josh had compressed deep into his toes starts to climb up his feet and ankles, bubbling and spreading, he tries to remain pleasant, “What would you like?” 

 

The boy rolls his eyes and rattles off an order which Josh scribbles down on his pad of paper and hollers into the kitchen, “Gerard! Get your tongue out of Frank’s ass and c’mere!” 

 

“What the fuck?” The greaseball says as Josh turns back around and taps the order into the computer. 

 

Josh ignores him and says, “Sixteen thirty-nine.” 

 

“Uh, no, not until you explain whatever that just was,” the boy cocks his head and narrows his eyes. 

 

“I don’t have to tell you shit, and isn’t it obvious? Do you have ears, loser?” This kid really knows how to piss Josh off.

 

“How’s that saying go? Ah! The customer is always right!” 

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” Gerard comes out of the kitchen doors, Frank trailing behind him, smirking softly and leaning upon his fists, elbows on the counter. 

 

“Y’know, you guys have superb customer service,” the greaseball says, picking open his inflamed red skin. 

 

“Ew, don’t do that shit in here man,” Gerard says, jokingly covering Frank’s eyes and nudging Josh with his foot as he nods to the pad of paper Josh had written the order down on. 

 

Josh is more than eager to leave and let Gerard and Frank deal with the greaseball and hopefully drive him away never to return by their own methods. Probably fucking on the countertop. 

 

“So, what’s your name, kiddo?” Josh can hear Gerard asking as he heads through the heavy kitchen doors.

 

“Tyler,” the guy grunts. 

 

“Hmm, pretty name, don’t you think so Frankie?” 

 

“The prettiest,” Frank agrees, his voice oozing mock-infatuation. 

 

“You’re not going to drive me away by being fags, takes one to know one.” 

 

Gerard and Frank laugh, “Oh, sweetheart, I can tell! My gaydar is fucking blaring!” Gerard croons and Josh can hear Frank wheezing.

 

“I hate everyone that works here,” the greaseball, Tyler, announces. 

 

“But you haven’t met anyone but us and Josh,” Frank recovers enough to say, and Josh wants to strangle the inked up midget for revealing his name. He didn’t wear his name tag for a reason. Well, nobody did really. No uniforms either.

 

“I can tell they’ll be more of the same,” Tyler says. “Can I just have my fucking food?” 

 

“You haven’t paid,” Gerard counters. 

 

Josh can hear the cash drawer pop open and then Gerard clicking it shut. (Probably with that shit-eating satisfied smirk drawing his lips up.)

 

-

 

“Sorry, man,” Mikey’s voice is crackly through Josh’s discount ancient flip-phone, “Pete dragged me along to his sister’s baby shower… like what the fuck am I doing here man. I hate babies, so fucking loud and shit, Jesus. And like, the thought of like putting my dick in a girl—let alone coming into her pussy—I think I’m actually gonna be sick. Holy shit. Fuck.” 

 

Josh groaned, slamming his hand into his face, “Can you like leave early or something? How far away are you?” 

 

“Uhh. I’ll ask Pete hold on.” 

 

Josh taps his feet and wiggles his toes and he waits, peering out through the open crack of the employee-only back room, watching Geoff take orders. 

 

“‘Kay I’m back.” Mikey says. 

 

“And the verdict?” Josh asks, hopefulness creeping into his voice. 

 

“Sorry, man. I’ll snatch some cake for you. If it makes you feel any better, the kids like one hundred percent a mistake. Like, these fuckers aren’t ready for a kid, Hillary’s in high school still, holy shit I’m glad to be an asexual gay!” 

 

Josh huffs, “Fine. I’ll walk.”

 

“Josh, it ain’t that bad of a walk.”

 

“If y’like getting mugged—“

 

“Shut the fuck up, dude, you’ll be fine.” 

 

“Hate you.”

 

“Not really. See ‘ya.”

 

“Bye.” Josh grumbles as Mikey hangs up and snaps his phone shut before jamming it into the pocket of his tight, black jeans. 

 

As he shoves his arms into his hoodie sleeves and slides the rest of it over his torso, Josh leave me the back room and calls a muffled ‘bye’ to Geoff, Awsten and Dallon. 

 

“Bye, bud.” 

 

“Bye, Josh!” 

 

“Adios.” 

 

Josh leaves the fast-food restaurant and very nearly stumbles into none other than the bane of his existence. The greaseball. What was his name? Skylar? Tyler? Tyler.

 

“My life is shit,” Josh announces to Tyler’s sneer and shoves past him, hands deep in his kangaroo pocket. 

 

He walks at a fast pace, ignoring the way his body still felt tingly from where it’d been rammed against Tyler. 

 

It had been a couple weeks since their first encounter and Tyler had done nothing but infuriate the flames curling under Josh’s skin, the latter having to pop ibuprofen regularly to combat splitting headaches. And what was worse, the guy somehow seemed to be getting hotter. 

 

The first time he’d seen him, Tyler looked like he been killed, used as a trampoline, then starved and held prisoner in a sewer for a decade. Every time since then, things started changing, little things, like the acne started to fade out to less angry-red scars and the sweatshirt—still putridly mustard—was significantly cleaner, and the overall stench had faded. His hair was still atrociously greasy. That hadn’t changed a bit. 

 

Josh could tell Tyler had once been—and still had—the potential to be very pretty, but he was obviously in a situation where he had no choice or was choosing this path. 

 

Whatever. Even if the guy was jaw-droppingly, boner-inducingly gorgeous, his rancid personality would still keep Josh as repelled as the guy from the grinch song. 

 

A truck zoomed past Josh and he jumped slightly, moving away from the road and shivering slightly. Goddamnit Mikey Way. 

 

-

 

As Josh pushed open his dorm door, he was instantly hit with the heavy scent of weed. 

 

“Bro, close the fuckin’ door! Don’t wanna get kicked out, d’ya?” Brendon bounded past Josh to slam the door shut, blunt dangling precariously between his forefinger and middle finger. 

 

“Maybe if you weren’t baking the shit out of the place every day, you wouldn’t need to be so worried about it!” Josh snaps, still on edge from the greaseball. Every aspect of the man’s personality infuriated Josh to his core. He snatches the blunt from his roommate and takes a long drag. 

 

“Ya fuckin’ hypocrite,” Brendon scoffs, scrubbing his hand through his messy hair. 

 

Josh blows smoke into Brendon’s face and wraps his lips around the joint again, narrowing his eyes. 

 

Brendon scrunches his face and blows a raspberry at Josh as he steals the blunt back and runs down the small hall leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. The latter scrambles after him and stops dead in front of the bathroom door. 

 

“Brendon?”

 

“I’m not coming out!” Aforementioned’s voice rings out. 

 

“No seriously, dude, who the fuck is in our shower?” Josh presses his ear against the painted wooden surface and scrunches his nose. 

 

Josh can hear Brendon start to laugh and cough as he stumbles out of his room to lean on the wall beside Josh. He catches his breath before speaking, “Frank and Gee—“

 

“What the hell are those two fuckers doing in our shower?” Josh interrupts, “They’ve got their own damn rooms with their own damn showers!” 

 

“Well y’know Frank rooms with Mikey and Mikey was just not fucking having it and Gee rooms with Ray and Christa is usually over and it was just easier this way,” As Josh makes to break in again, Brendon shoves the blunt back between his red-haired roommate’s lips. 

 

Josh takes a hit and exhales after removing it, “Just how long have they been using—“ a loud, keening moan rings out “—excuse me, fucking in our shower?” 

 

“Uh, I don’t know, a couple months I guess. You’ve been here for several occasions, baked out of your fucking mind, but still present.” 

 

“What the fuck? Wait, I know for a fact that Mikey isn’t even here right now! He was supposed to give me a ride back here from T.B. but Pete dragged him along to his sister’s mistake shower! What the man doesn’t know about his shower won’t kill him!” 

 

“Josh, chill man, it seriously isn’t a big deal, like we don’t pay for the water or anything—“

 

“You are infuriating,” Josh snaps, turning on his heels and storming over to his desk, grabbing a pair of headphones and opening his window. He climbs out before sinking down to sit on the slightly angled roof outside the aperture and jams the headphones over his ears, plugging the jack into his phone before maxing the volume and taking a long drag. 

 

After a moment or two, Brendon clambers out beside him and lets his legs dangle over the edge. Josh begrudgingly holds out the butt of the joint and his roommate gives him a genuine smile before accepting the last of the weed and digging into his baggy sweatpants pocket. 

 

“Hell yeah,” Josh says, taking the new joint and angling it for Brendon to light, having perfected the art of not screaming over loud music long ago. 

 

Brendon fits his hand over the buttons on the side of Josh’s phone and turns down the music, letting out apologies like carbon dioxide, “Sorry, I just wanted to say sorry for not asking you about it. Like, you’re my best friend, dude, and I don’t want you thinking I don’t respect your opinion and if you’re not cool with it I’ll kick them out. They can fuck in somebody else’s shower—“

 

“It’s ok. I’m not mad; I’m just stressed, I guess would be the best word.” 

 

Brendon’s voice is quiet, “Was the guy there again?”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Did he provoke you? What did he say?”

 

“Nothing,” Josh looks out across the polluted sky and mucky rooftops, “just fuckin’ sneered in that snagle-toothed way and rammed his arm into me as I was leavin’.” 

 

Brendon takes a drag, “At least you didn’t have to deal with waiting on him. I don’t know why he’s so intent on pissing you off. He’s like a demon or a supernatural creature of some sort that just like fuckin’ feeds on your anger or some shit. Fuck, I’m absolutely stoned. God.” 

 

“Hate him,” is all the response Brendon gets before the shorter man falls quiet. 

 

Voices and scuffling buzzes inside from the window and progressively gets louder as Gerard and Frank scrabble over the ledge, all wet hair and red lips, dark love bites trailing down jawlines and collar bones. 

 

Maintaining the comfortable silence, the new additions accept the joint as it’s passed down to them. 

 

“Hey,” Brendon says, because you can’t expect it to be silent forever, no matter where Josh stands on the matter, “we should get everyone to like pile together money and we should all share a big apartment.” 

 

Frank blows a smoke ring and arches a dark brow, “We’d never get any sleep with everyone fucking all night.” 

 

“Poor Josh,” Gerard says, kicking his feet along the deteriorating roof tiles, “all that noise and no action but his right hand.”

 

Frank snickers quietly and Brendon glares daggers at the boys to his right. 

 

“Shut the fuck up, dude.” 

 

“Woah, man, calm down, I’m just messing with him,” Gerard says, frowning slightly and peering over at Josh, who’s remained silent throughout the entire ordeal. 

 

Brendon opens his mouth to retaliate but as Josh clamps a hand over his knee, he closes it and huffs angrily. 

 

“You should like, ask that emo asshole guy from T.B. with the greasy fuckin’ hair if he wants to smash,” Frank suggests offhandedly, pouting as Gerard takes the blunt from between his lips. 

 

Brendon makes to stand up but Josh’s hand shoots out and glues itself around the other’s wrist, “Brendon,” he growls, voice deadly silent, “don’t do anything fucking stupid, we’re on the side of a goddamned roof that we can easily slide to our deaths from. Frank. Shut the fuck up, I don’t need your input.” 

 

“Chill the hell out, Dun,” Gerard snaps, curling his arm protectively around his boyfriend’s waist. 

 

“C’mon, Josh, it’s completely fine to like him. You know none of us are homophobic, like, I literally just had a dick up my ass, we’re as far from straight as it’s physically possible to be,” Frank says. 

 

“I do not have fucking crush on him! Don’t make me sew your lips together, Iero.” 

 

Gerard makes to defend his lover’s honor but Frank shushes him quietly, “Honey, it’s ok. Josh, I can tell by the face you make when you look at him, it’s the one Gerard made at me across rooms and stuff and when he thought I wasn’t looking. It’s the ‘I wanna fuck your brains out’ look and I know it well, as I damn well should. Hell, he still does now but it’s more concentrated, loving and friendlier and not completely lust-fueled y’know?” 

 

Gee softly presses his lips to Frank’s cheek and gently pulls him into a lingering kiss, angling his face slightly to exhale the smoke into his mouth. The shotgunning progressively gets more heated and Josh huffs audibly and cranks his phone volume up to muffle the sounds of lips on lips and soft groans. 

 

Josh takes a freshly-lit joint from Brendon and smokes his life away because god dammit, he really fucking does wanna bend that prick over and fuck his tight little ass into his mattress and make him scream his name over and over until he comes, but hell would sooner freeze over and Frank would sooner stop sitting on Gee’s lap before Josh would ever even think about asking the T.B. asshole to fuck.

 

-

 

It’s like this guy has Josh’s work schedule memorized. It gets to the point where he’s paranoid enough to look over at the door every five seconds and dash into the kitchen when anyone with greasy brown hair comes in. 

 

It’s like this today and Josh has just scurried into the kitchen, bodily pushing Mikey out to take Tyler’s order and repeating four things like a mantra. 

 

It’s not a crush. 

 

He’s not getting hotter. 

 

You’re just sexually frustrated. 

 

You’ll go out to a bar tonight, hook up with someone. 

 

Except he never does. 

 

Every night, after seeing Tyler, finds Josh with his fist wrapped in a tight circle around his throbbing cock, fucking up into it frantically, coming with Tyler’s name on his lips and smacking his face repeatedly afterwards. 

 

-

 

The next month, Josh comes to the conclusion that he is absolutely fucked. His heavy fixation with the greaseball has flowered up into something more. Something deeper. Something dangerous. 

 

When he comes into Taco Bell for his shift on Monday, he notices the greaseball sitting at a table near the door. With a girl. With a pretty blonde girl. 

 

Jealousy instantly bubbles up deep in Josh’s gut as he storms past the table and slams the staff room door shut behind himself. 

 

He’s just thrown his frame down into a chair and shoved his hands over his face when the door opens and Frank’s voice rings out, “You need to get laid.” 

 

Josh looks up, anger clearly defined across his features, “Shut the fuck up.” 

 

The older boy slides his ass up onto the table, undeterred, he kicks his feet, “Josh, really, I’m not saying it has to be with Tyler, but it’s honestly hard to breathe with you two in the same room.” 

 

Josh pushes his head further into the cavern of his arms with a loud groan, “What do you think I’ve been trying to do? I can’t get that stupid little greaseball out of my head! Every time I jack off, there’s his face! Right front and center in my mind! But he’s brought his fucking girlfriend along, and he’s wearing a t-shirt that shows off his gorgeous collarbones and tattoos—“

 

“See, man, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You gotta distract yourself. But, uh, the first time he came in here, when Gee and I tried to get him to fuck off by fagging it up, he was like ‘takes one to know one.’ Doesn’t mean he’s explicitly hard for dudes though.” 

 

Josh groans again, voice muffled from his hoodie-covered arms, “Just, tell me when they leave. I can’t bear to look at them.” 

 

The table creaks as Frank hops off, “Sure,” he ruffles his hair and the door swings shut. 

 

Josh groans. 

 

-

 

Josh has just finished counting the cash register when Frank calls his name from the back room. Still on-edge, he sighs and carries the drawer with him as he heads back. 

 

When he enters, everyone else who was working today—Mikey, Awsten and Frank—are sitting around the table, looking at him, grins on their faces. (Except Mikey, who was on his phone, looking uninterested). 

 

“What,” Josh says, pushing aside coats and hoodies to lock the drawer in the safe behind their coat rack. Top security. 

 

“We’re going out!” Awsten says and Josh looks around, confused. 

 

“To a club,” Frank clarifies and Awsten nods excitedly. Josh looks at Mikey who shrugs and then nods a little. 

 

“Ok,” Josh sighs, and grabs his hoodie from the rack, feeling the soft excitement sizzle in his stomach. 

 

“I called an Uber using Brian’s card,” Mikey says, clicking his phone off and shoving it into his pocket. 

 

“He’ll be pissed if he finds out it’s been you,” Josh tells him as the four leave the room and head for the main exit. 

 

Mikey shakes his head, “Oh, no, it hasn’t been me, this is the first time I’ve done it. It’s been Frank all the other times.” 

 

“Wow, thanks you fucking rat,” Frank says, smacking Mikey on the back of the head. Mikey aims a kick at Frank’s balls and he groans, swearing. Josh snickers. 

 

“Ok! Let’s just go!” Awsten says, helping Frank up and pushes back the fringe of his pink hair. 

 

A swanky-looking jet-black car pulls up and they all pile inside, cooing in appreciation at Mikey’s driver. 

 

About twenty minutes of fancy bubbling drinks that make them all giggle and throwing fuzzy pillows st each other like cliched preteen girls at a slumber party go by before the car stops. 

 

They call out their thanks as they stumble out and wave at the back end of the receding car. 

 

“Do you think he drugged us?” Frank giggles, hanging off Awsten’s shoulder. 

 

“Nah,” Mikey says, smiling, and nudging his thickly-framed glasses back into place, “I feel great though.”

 

“Just on the edge between stoned and drunk,” Josh muses and turns around to face the flashing lights and heavily perfumes air of a club. 

 

“Noice choice, Mikeyway,” Frank whistles as he comes up beside Josh and grabs at their clothes as he pulls them all inside. 

 

Awsten trips over seemingly nothing and comes up laughing, “Yeah, that fucker drugged us, but like I don’t think he meant it to get us into trouble or anything, like he just wanted us to have a good time, y’know?” 

 

The youngest boy’s laughter is contagious and soon all four are giggling and stumbling up to the bar. For some reason (no one’s really surprised) Mikey has all of their fake IDs and the bouncer seems to be worlds away from sober so there’s not really any trouble. Then, they’re in. 

 

Three drinks in, Josh has lost track of Frank and Awsten, Mikey passed out on the barstool beside him. Feeling bubbly and giddy, Josh pokes his finger into the soft flesh of Mikey’s cheek repeatedly until he groans and makes to lift his head off the counter. 

 

“My head is heavy,” he says stupidly and Josh giggles, downing the last of his drink and slamming it on the surface. Mikey groans and yanks his head up, nearly falling backwards off the the stool. 

 

“Too loud!” Mikey yells over the pounding music and they both seem to notice Gerard standing behind Mikey, hands on his shoulders, at the same moment. 

 

“When the fuck d’you get here?” Josh’s voice is slurred and his tongue feels thick and funny in his mouth. 

 

Gerard’s eye twitches as he looks at the alcohol and seems to force his head back down to look at Josh, “I just caught Mikey from falling and cracking his head open, Dun, how far gone are you?” 

 

“Gee, you shouldn’t be here!” Mikey looks like he’s trying to be sober while horribly intoxicated, a look of drunken-worry painted across his features. 

 

Somewhere in the back of Josh’s mind he remembers that Mikey is right and Gerard should one hundred percent not be here right now. A recovering alcoholic should never be in a bar. 

 

Ignoring Gerard’s question, Josh stumbles up and tries to herd the taller male away from the bar, “You gotta leave!” Mikey pleads, Gerard having caught him again from falling off his seat.

 

“I know, ok! But I gotta find Frank! Awsten’s Snapchat story is full of him just getting grinding on by everyone!” 

 

“Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have let him leave,” Mikey groans, trying to rub sense into his temples and the three push into the crowd, Gerard supporting the younger two, clearly intoxicated boys. 

 

Josh feels light and heavy at the same time and the loud music makes his ears buzz and the ground shake. 

 

“Frank! Awsten!” Mikey’s slurring loudly, and Gerard’s face is a mix of worry, embarrassment and concentration. 

 

In the logical section of Josh’s brain, he knows that what Mikey’s doing isn’t helping at all, but to drunk Josh, it seems like a great idea so he joins in. 

 

Gerard tells them both to shut up as he digs his phone out of his tight jeans and opens Snapchat. Awsten’s story is showing Frank, in all his intoxicated glory, is shirtless, hair looking like he just got fucked, dark hickies Josh is praying were made by Gerard adorning his shoulders and collarbones, sandwiched in between two tall muscular men, stroking and petting over his inked hips and neck. Josh can feel the arm supporting him around his waist tighten with anger and Gerard jams the phone away and starts walking in a different direction at a much faster pace.

 

They break through a clearing to see Awsten’s bright pink hair reflected off of by the black lights overhead, yelling at the guys touching Frank and trying to break free of his own buff men holding him back. 

 

In person, Frank’s face doesn’t really look upset or overjoyed, he just looks fucked-out and stoned. 

 

Gerard seethes with anger and lets go of Josh and Mikey—causing them to stumble into each other and knock heads painfully—and taps on one of the guys shoulders. He turns around to be met by Gerard’s fist across his nose with a loud snap. 

 

“Holy shit,” Mikey slurs. 

 

The other guy turns to face him and Gerard kicks him in the dick, grabbing his boyfriend and holding him to his chest. 

 

Frank groans softly, barely audible to Josh’s ears, and clings to Gerard’s neck, eyes still firmly closed. 

 

The first guy, nose gushing blood, turns to Gerard, and advances, the second guy holding his dick and hissing through his crooked teeth. 

 

Josh moves forward and slams his fist into the guy’s gut, kneeing him in the balls. The guy lands a blow to Josh’s cheek and his face throbs, but Josh manages to get the guy on the ground and twists his arms up behind his head, making the man scream out. He kicks the back of the guys head and slams his arms to the ground. 

 

Behind him, Josh hears gasps and cracks, and he slams the guy’s head against the ground a couple times, hopefully knocking him out. 

 

He stands up, stumbling slightly to see Mikey supporting Frank while trying to fend off the men holding back Awsten that seemed to have taken an interest in getting Frank back. 

 

Josh leaves the guy in a pile and runs back over to where he had initially left Mikey, going for a flying leap on the closest guy’s back. He jams his fingers into the underside of the guy’s jaw and feels him attempting to dislodge him furiously. Pressing harder earns a strained wheezing noise and the guy stops struggling. He falls with a thump and Josh crawls along the dirty floor to yank the second guy’s pants down. 

 

“What the fuck?” He swings out, using Awsten as a weapon and Awsten curls up on himself, trying to be as small as possible. 

 

Josh is about to try to use the pants to trip the guy when he hears a weird sound and the guy makes a weird face. 

 

Awsten gives a soft terrified laugh as the guy falls and Josh slides forward just in time to rescue Awsten from being smashed beneath the muscular body of his captor. Awsten’s breathing is heavy and he hugs Josh tightly, whispering his thanks. 

 

Josh hugs the taller boy back before Gerard starts screaming threats and swears and he quickly helps Awsten stand up and helps him as he limps over to Mikey. 

 

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Mikey says, arms around Frank’s small shivering form. 

 

“Did you hit him?” Josh asks, rubbing his free hand down his aching head. 

 

“Uh, yeah, what the fuck did you think happened to him?” Josh makes sure Awsten can stand with a little help from Mikey before turning around. 

 

Gerard and the second guy are furiously fighting eachother, there’s not really any other way to describe it. Gerard looks furious and Josh doesn’t think he’s ever seen Gerard look this intense in the entire time he’s known him. (Which, to be fair, hasn’t been that long. He could be an assassin for all he knew. It didn’t seem likely, but still.) Gerard’s gotten the guy beat the floor and he’s shoving the guy’s head down and sitting on his back, effectively pinning him down. 

 

All of a sudden, someone grabs him and he panics, trying to land a punch but the guy catches his wrist and Josh is staring down at familiar inked black bands and looks up into the face of Tyler. That asshole greaseball. 

 

“What the hell—“ Josh starts, but Tyler puts his hand over Josh’s mouth. He removes his hand and tilts his head over and grabs his wrist. 

 

They’re now in a dark backroom, alone, music still shaking the floor but significantly muffled. 

 

Josh stares at Tyler and the latter smiles shyly. 

 

“What the hell,” Josh repeats, and Tyler moves a little closer, touching his cheek. 

 

“You’re bleeding,” he says 

 

Josh moves his hand up to touch the numb portion of his face, in his drunken stupor being surprised to find it wet beneath his finger. He brings it down to see Tyler was right. He is bleeding. 

 

Sober Josh might’ve asked what Tyler was doing here or why he dragged him into a dark, secluded room, but drunk Josh says, “Can I suck your dick?” 

 

Tyler’s mouth falls open into a perfect ‘o’ and barely has time to stutter out an, “W-What? Ok. . .” Before Josh has sunk to his knees and undone the button and impatiently yanked down Tyler’s jeans and briefs in one go. 

 

His cock is smooth and semi-hard, close-shaven and just around average size and girth. He doesn’t give himself much time to scrutinize and map every detail of Tyler’s cock before it’s in his mouth and Tyler’s hands are in his hair. 

 

Josh thinks Tyler has a beautiful voice that sounds even better when he’s panting and crying out Josh’s name softly. 

 

“O-Oh, shit, Joshie, a-ah! Fuck!” He bucks his hips as Josh pulls off up until just the crown is in his mouth still and flattens his tongue to lap against the tip. 

 

Josh doesn’t think he’s ever heard some of the noises he’s making Tyler make now. Not in porn, not by Frank and Gerard, and not that one time he walked in on Brendon and Dallon. God. Lock the door. Please. Fuck.

 

He’s attempting deep-throating when Tyler starts making this little ‘uh’ noise and his hips buck involuntarily. Josh chokes a little and Tyler seems to get off on that because he’s warning Josh in a panicked voice, “Gonna come, gonna come, gonna come, oh fuck, oh, God, Joshie!” 

 

Luckily, Josh knows a thing or two about sucking cock, and takes Tyler’s dick out of his mouth and moans and comes in his pants as Tyler pulls his hair and comes all over his face. 

 

Josh starts laughing quietly and Tyler sinks down to lay out over Josh and giggle against his neck and starts lapping his own come off Josh’s face. 

 

-

 

Josh is thankful he doesn’t work again until Thursday, and somehow gets through his classes with one of the worst hangovers he’s had in a long time. 

 

He definitely feels for Awsten and Mikey, them being scheduled for Tuesday, and Mikey having Wednesday as well. He wonders how Gerard is taking being away from Frank for his shift. Probably not well. Definitely not well. 

 

He gets a call from Mikey sometime around lunch, proving his suspicions to be correct. At least Awsten had Geoff with him. 

 

When Thursday rolls around and he has to work again, he’s excited for the first time since meeting Tyler. He gets a ride to work from Tyler and they kiss outside the door before going in together, hand-in-hand. 

 

Frank is leaning over the counter, head in hands—as per usual—a small smile gracing his complexion and Gerard, standing next to him open-mouthed and wide-eyed, staring. 

 

“Hey guys! How’re you feeling? You’ve meet Tyler before, he’s my boyfriend,” Tyler grins widely when Josh turns to look at him and waves shyly. 

 

They head up to the front counter, Josh looking down at Frank and up to Gerard, “Really, how are you feeling? I haven’t had the chance to ask and my phone has officially taken a shit.” 

 

Frank looks up at Gerard and Josh notices their intertwined hands, “I’m ok,” Frank says softly and Gerard pulls him into his arms and mouths “later” at Josh. He nods solemnly. 

 

He turns to Tyler, rubbing his thumb against the back of his hand, “I’ve gotta clock in, I’ll be right back out.” 

 

“Ok,” Tyler says, kissing his cheek and Josh turns to head through the staff door. 

 

-

 

When Brendon is up front and the others are in the staff room, Frank curled up in Gerard’s lap, Gerard opens his mouth, dark hair falling over his eyes as he pulls Frank closer. 

 

Josh stays quiet, watching them. Waiting patiently. 

 

“Those guys—the one’s we beat up—Awsten told me they dragged them both off and,” Gerard seems to choke on his own voice, “and they raped them.” 

 

Josh’s eyes go wide and Frank makes a soft noise against Gerard’s neck. 

 

“Then they forced Frank to dance with them, and Awsten managed to get some of it on his story, like I showed you guys before. Then some other guys—likely their friends—smashed his phone and held him like that. He told me he thinks they drugged him,” Gerard pets Frank’s hair and Josh notices he’s crying. 

 

“Oh, my God. . .” Josh says, vision being obscured by the tears flooding his vision. “I’m so sorry, fuck, oh, my God. It was all my fault, I kept being a whiny little bitch about Tyler and they wanted to make me feel better and—“

 

“Josh,” Gerard warns, eyes flashing, “enough.” 

 

Frank sobs dryly against Gerard’s neck and Gerard holds him tighter. 

 

-

 

When the shift ends that night, he volunteers to work Awsten’s next shift on Tuesday and give him the money for it and do the same for Frank on Saturday. He notices some of their other shifts have been taken by some of the other guys and Josh is once again thankful for everyone who works at the run-down Taco Bell. They were like something of a dysfunctional family. 

 

-

 

The next month, Josh learns three things. 

 

First, the pretty blonde girl—Jenna—is Tyler’s best friend who was trying to help make Josh jealous. 

 

Secondly, Tyler’s has the hots for him too—and for even longer. 

 

Lastly, the boss promotes Josh to Assistant Manager and this first thing he does is hire Tyler (and in Mikey’s request, Pete). 

**Author's Note:**

> Oof. Hi, I’m sorry for the rape :((( 
> 
> I feel bad about it, but I will probably be writing a frerard (&maybe a gawsten) thing about it in the future. 
> 
> This is the February TOPFL thingie I hope you liked it. 
> 
> It’s the longest thing I’ve written in one go and I’m proud of that. 
> 
> It might not make sense grammar-wise in places and I’m sorry for that. I don’t have a beta and I don’t really edit a lot and a lot of this was written in the middle of the night and I don’t have a lot of time to get this is up before the deadline. 
> 
> I might come back and edit it up a little later and I want to make this it’s own series. The Taco Bell Saga. Haha I’m hilarious lol ok bye ily.


End file.
